Living?

This is a poem that I did for my creative writing class. It has to do with the chaos that surrounds us that we have become accustomed to. We as a society don’t even notice the bad anymore, it’s a part of us. It’s normal to see murders and violence on television every night. Of course, there are good things in this world. This poem focuses on the bad. For the people who will say ” Why focus just on the bad?” I just have to say ” Why focus just on the good?”   Hope you like it.

Sally Mann

 

Drugs, Alcohol, and Sex

Police brutality and living in the projects

Climate Change and War

Only 1 percent has all the money while the rest are poor

Violence and Greediness

You lock us up/ kill us but expect obedience?

Abuse and Murders

We want the truth and you try to quiet our reporters

Guns and Homicide

Who are we to trust when our politicians are run by bribes

Death and Cancer

We are yelling at the top of our lungs, but we receive no answer

Religion, Gangs, Pollution

Abortions, Rape, and Prostitution

Poverty, Racism, and Fornication

Pride, Lust, and Castration

Why do we fight for the world that isn’t ours?

Just to say we broke the law and be placed behind bars

Why do we think that there is good in those we surround?

When in the middle of injustice, they don’t make a peep not a sound

Why do we try?

When we are living just to die.

 

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Uncertainty

This is an unfinished story that I am working on for a creative writing class that I am taking over the summer. Any suggestions or plot twists would be greatly appreciated.

 

mother and daughter

Tick, Tick, Tick.

There’s a clock somewhere but is seems very distant

I open my eyes trying to adjust to the darkness but it’s pitch black here. Where am I?

My body is trembling, the bone-chilling wind I feel scrapes at my skin begging it to surrender to its whelms. There’s something gooey and warm beneath my toes, running rapidly, seemingly trying to escape from something. But from what?

I stand up and start to grasp at the air trying desperately to search for walls, tables, chairs, anything to indicate where I am but nothing is here. Quietly, my voice trembling, I murmur, “Hello?” … Nothing.

I stumble forward, “Hello? Is anyone here?”

“MOMMY! MOMMY, PLEASE!!!!”

I turn around quickly, feeling my heart start to beat out of control, my palms start to sweat, and my mind starts to run at a million miles per minute. Frantic, I yell for her.

“BABY…BABY WHERE ARE YOU? IM HERE! WHERE ARE YOU?” My tears catch in my throat as sheer fear and desperation start to flow through my veins.

Silence answers back

“BABY, PLEASE ANSWER ME!! PLEASE, ARIA WHERE ARE YOU?” I begin to whimper, my throat squeezing shut.

I run forward, tripping over something, and fall face first into the warm gummy substance.

“ARIAAA!!!”

Then like a white-hot sun bursting into my view, all the lights turn on. Again, I am forced to adjust my eyes.

The first thing I notice is the blood. So much blood, flowing around me. It has covered me whole, wrapping me in its metallic smell, drenching me with its red sticky warmness.

I look forward at the object I tripped on, and there staring at me lifeless lies my four-year-old daughter…. I start to scream.

“NOOOOOOOO!!!!!!” I yell. It takes me a couple of moments to realize that I’m in my bedroom. I sit up. Soaking in my sweat, trying to focus my thoughts. Another nightmare. I turn my head toward the clock. 3:56 a.m. Great. I might as well get up; I have been through this plenty of times before to know that no matter how much I try, I won’t be able to fall back asleep. I swing my legs to the side of the bed, stand, walk to the bathroom and start the shower.

As I let my body surrender to the hot water, my mind starts to wander, as it usually does after one of my nightmares. Most nights are like this, and you think after eight years I would be able to sleep better, but it has never gotten easier, and I know it never will. There is nothing that I can do, but my therapist says that I’m making progress and I guess that’s a good thing. Progress. Seems unreal to me that after such heart crushing time that anyone could make any progress, but as I look back I can see what she means. I was so depressed, wanting to end my life seemed like the only option back then, and sometimes it still crosses my mind – seeping into my consciousness wanting to be heard, stretching its big arms and showing me that no matter how strong I think I am, it is so much stronger. That is the past though, and with time I have learned to ignore its showiness and aggressive attitude. Time and a heavy dose of antidepressants, of course, have helped. The guilt will never subside though, my daughter, the one thing in this life I had to take care of and I let her slip through my fingers. I let her die, and no pill can ever make me forget about that. Sometimes I see her face. Perfect dark eyebrows, pale skin and a mess of curly hair at the top of her head. Her smile so bright, even with those two missing teeth at the bottom, could light up any room. Her laugh was contagious.  My beautiful baby girl. Now a corpse at the bottom of an ocean or the distant meal of a wolf or fox found in the middle of some nameless piece of land. I used to picture her skipping into the front door, her head swinging back and forth, repeating the lyrics of some lullaby she heard. But those thoughts are gone. I will never see her again, and I will never get to know what it feels like to hug her one more time.  Someone took my child. I don’t know where she is, I don’t know who she’s with or if she’s even alive. This is my curse and punishment until the day I die.

Forgotten and Replaced

 

screaming

The cry of a child in the rain

Suite cases, broken glass

“Daddy don’t go”

Just the beginning

This pain no one could surpass

 

Emptiness left

Abandonment sets in

He’s never felt so alone

An empty ice box within

 

Birthday parties

Everyone else shows

He still hopes and looks around

But all he sees his faceless shadows

 

The one person he wants

He’s found a better life

This child doesn’t know

That his days will be full of strife

 

The days go on

And this boy gets mad

What the hell did he do

To deserve to be left by his dad?

 

The grandfather not around

He has his first kid

His anger takes a hold of him

He looks at his baby, he could never do what his father did

 

He’s going to find him

He wants the answers

It’s been eating away at him

Like an uncontrolled cancer

 

He pulls up to his dad’s house

Lights off, everyone’s asleep

He pulls the cold metal out of his jacket

His anger at an all-time extreme

 

He breaks the glass

Enters the room

Puts the gun to his dad’s chest

Pulls the trigger – Boom

 

The cops handcuff him and are taking him away

Rescue workers upstairs

It doesn’t look good they say

He tells himself he doesn’t care

 

What he doesn’t know is his father had another son

He can see this little boy distraught and alone

He stands in the rain, screaming something he can’t hear

All he’s holding is a teddy bear and the phone

 

The cry of a child in the rain

Suite cases, broken glass

“Daddy don’t go”

Just the beginning

This pain no one could surpass

 

To Catch A Predator

My blood IS BOILING. It’s cascading to the top and I am one more article away from yelling obscenities to anything in arm’s reach. I am outraged. I am saddened. I am upset with myself. I am upset at everything. I am upset at everyone. I am upset at the world as a whole. I have literally worked 26 hours in the past two days. I have not slept for more than 5 hours in the combined two days ( and to be honest, this is probably one of the reasons I cannot control my emotions, so bare with me as I vent) and I’ve had enough caffeine to kill a meth head.

What has sent me over the edge, you might ask? Yesterday afternoon, my children’s principal was arrested inside of a mall for online solicitation of a minor. My children who are in elementary school. MY children. MY CHILDREN”S ELEMENTARY SCHOOL PRINCIPAL!!! This person has spoken to them. This person has held their hands while I pull up to the curb. I trusted him with their safety. I trusted him to take care of my precious children. I shook his hand. I had pleasant conversations with him. This principal. This CHILD PREDATOR. I let a child predator right under my nose. I let him guide me with his smiles and nice gestures. I let him be in my children’s lives and told them they could trust in him ! I feel as I have failed them.

You know you always imagine that as a parent you would be able to sense that ” bad ” vibe from a child predator. That across a park and pass a barn yard under the piles and piles of manure, you are the parent that could smell a predator even before they had set one deceitful disgusting eye on your creations. You fantasize over being the hero and saving the world from all pedophiles.  But such dreams are not reality. The reality is that he seemed nice enough and the reality is that sometimes we cannot fully protect what we brought into this world. I think that is what really has upset me. That I cannot protect them forever or even all the time. I cannot shield them from the evils that have manifested here, even if I try to will it to be that way.  I am angry that there even needs to be a reason for me to feel as though I have to watch them 24 hours a day. I am angry that these people even exist.

I. AM. ANGRY.

I Didn’t Mean To…

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.

It happened on its own

One day I felt you touch my heart

And I was never the same

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But you slithered into my consciousness

Unable to take you out

You set up camp and refused to let me turn away

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But now I feel you in my veins

Pulsating with every beat

You are my drug, my heroine

And I am completely addicted

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But my eyes will forever be rosy

I will never look at anyone the same

It will always just be you

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But these butterflies wouldn’t die

They constantly live in my stomach

Going crazy whenever you walk into a room

Whenever you glance my way

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But you have taken over my mind

Past failures, unrecognizable

There was no one before you and there will be no one after you

I didn’t mean to fall in love you

But you have taken over my body

It aches in your presence and is never fully satisfied

This yearning is relentless

I am always in need of you

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But my mouth only wants to speak to you and about you

There are no more important subjects, there is nothing else trending

My life revolves around you

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

But you walked into my life

With one smile you captivated me

Turned me inside out

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

I thought I had guarded my heart

But you gently took it from me and you’re holding it hostage

You say I will never get it back and I pray it’s true

I didn’t mean to fall in love with you

I didn’t need to fall in love with you

I didn’t want to fall in love with you

But…..I did.

Destiny? God’s Will? Or Changes That Pushed Us Here ?

As I sit here at the dining room table, sipping on my coffee, trying desperately to wake up (late nights equating into late lazy mornings or afternoons in this case). I look around and wonder how I came to this place. In less than 6 months my challenging life has pushed me into a completely different route that has forced me into wanting to change my career choice, begin this blog and surprisingly start on a manuscript ( with a good start I might add and a couple of chapters already in ). As I look back from the beginning I wonder why I ever wanted to be in the medical field in the first place. Not that I don’t love my job or the people I work with, but why did I, at such a young age conform myself to such a narrow pathway. When I was younger there were no dreams of becoming an astronaut, traveling to different countries, becoming a celebrity or even having a family. The only thing I have ever wanted was to become a nurse and work (surprisingly) in the same hospital I am currently employed at. Where did this dream come from? Was I looking at a TV show and see a nurse walk in and demand that I have her life and that I was going to work from that day forward into making that come true? Was the need placed in front of me by a guardian or someone I looked up to? For 20+ years I have put all my energy into becoming a nurse and each strategic step I made in my life, through my hardships, have continuously pushed me into that role. Just so now, in less than 6 months, for those same hardships to throw me in a domino effect into something so different. But there’s a fire here. A fire I never expected and one that I can’t seem to shake off. Through the criticizing eyes of those around me, I look straight ahead and know that in my heart I have found my place. For the first time in my life, I don’t know where I’m going and why I even started looking, but I am here. There are many times that have stayed up at night while my mind wonders and think to myself what events have encouraged me to stray so far from my path. Is this God’s will? Have I always wanted to write and I denied it because I was so focused on the goal of that little girl or is it that these events have pushed me here? Maybe all three. I don’t know where I’m going and as much as that’s scary I have to enjoy this detour. I have never been placed into such a topsy-turvy road and there is beauty in the unknown. It often seems we are all willing to fast forward to the end of the movie or turn to the last chapter of the book but why I ask when the real excitement is the middle. The events and moments that have made that last final breath just as sweet. I don’t know where this fire came from and I don’t know why it started but I am here. It might be short lived or I might end up staying but why fret about it? Life truly happens when we have left the windows open during a storm. It happens when we least expect it and it happens when we don’t need it to. I hope that your dreams and goals have lit up a place in you. My hope for you is that you, even if it’s only fleeting, feel what I feel at this very moment. This need that resides in me now is one that will leave its marks on my soul for the rest of my life. It’s difficult and it’s scarring but in itself is as unique and mysterious as it is beautiful. And something so life changing cannot possibly be all negative. It will change you into something that was not expected and either you can love that change or hate it, but trust me when I say, that life……is in these moments.

Wait…..Don’t I Get A Handbook ?!

Motherhood was always taught to me as something that every woman comes to know naturally. You might not have been good at anything prior, but at the time of your baby’s first breath, your instincts would kick in and you would just know. Hmm…. I guess I’m still waiting, then? I stare up into the sky and have come to the conclusion that maybe, JUST maybe, that little light switch was never turned on or it was broken upon arrival with a big ” no refunds ” sticker stamped on it.
I have three children and I still don’t know what I’m doing. I literally have to ask every single mother I know, everything they know. The questions are endless and vary in degree from how to fix their hair, to what age do you have the terrible and terrifying ( to me, anyway) talk about sex ?! I always envisioned myself being this super cool mom- “OH, you want to have a little party? Of course! Bring em’ all here and I’ll call the pizza delivery man!” Then when their friends would come over, they would love to see me because after all- I was just soo cool. Yeah well, I’m starting to think maybe those daydreams were simply a delusion from the many pain medications I received during labor. Every day is a struggle of what I think I should be doing versus what my inner cool mom thinks I should be doing and what society has deemed acceptable. Now don’t get me wrong, I definitely am not going to be one of those mothers that drink with their children and does drugs with them for the sake of saying ” Hey, they are going to do it anyway! Why not do it where I can watch them? ” No. I just wanted to be counted as a friend and mother at the same time, not some Nazi world leader that was just out to ruin their lives and force them to clean up the house at the most inconvenient of times.
I think my biggest fear to be completely honest, is that I’ll essentially break them. Yes, break my children. That from some random act on my part, that my children will be so damaged that they will be broken inside. That they will grow up to resent me and point out in fury, ” Well, of course, I’m doing this, because that one time when I wanted to sign up for swimming, you made me sign up for soccer and I have never been able to do what I wanted in life “. Okay, so maybe not that dramatic but you get the point. Every decision we make as parents are of the utmost importance and just like us mothers grew our children in the womb, we must also mold their future selves outside of it. No problem, right? Wrong. Being a parent is like being inducted into a secret society in which the only way to survive is for them to blindfold you, make you swim up the river and when you are ready to give up, inform you that you must now take a math test and PASS! ( or whatever subject you are most scared of ) Seems like a daunting task and a marathon uphill to say the least. So where is our handbook? Or is there some goddess of a mother or king of a father that have all the answers, because please send me the information on their exact location so that in my joyous delirium I’ll head straight into their all knowing arms!
No. There are no answers is there. No right way or wrong. Although, I do seem to want to bask in the glory of the PTA moms who remember every single event, remember every doctor’s check up and always have time to help with homework. They sing sweet lullabies and put their children to sleep after an hour of storytelling every single night. No, I have to come to the realization that we are all drowning in this aspect one way or another. Barely able to stay afloat in this twisted role of parenting. That the only thing I can do, is what I think is right and the best I can do depending on the situation at hand at any given moment. It would be glorious to have a handbook, but every child is different and there is more than one way to raise them. I have to understand and HOPE that my best is realized in their eyes and that they understand where my heart is. Yeah………a handbook would be nice. But my best can be nice too.